“Afraid not,” Hiram said. “A strike force is being readied. Believe me, no one back home is happy with what’s going on or with the possibility that such a prominent American is being used and held by a group as unsavory as this bunch. But there are logistical problems.”
“Such as?”
“For one, we have no proof,” Hiram said. “Beyond that, even if our theory is correct, we can’t be sure that the cyberattacks are emanating from this compound or that Sienna and the others are there. If we tip our hand and ask for help from the government of Madagascar, we’ll lose the only advantage we have going: the element of surprise.”
“You need boots on the ground to get you proof,” Kurt said.
Hiram nodded solemnly. “That’s where you and Joe come in. It’s strictly volunteer at this point, but we’ll be crossing over Madagascar in a few hours. That puts you and Joe four hours closer than the next-best option.”
“You know I’m game,” Kurt said. “And I’m sure Sleeping Beauty back there won’t want to miss out on all the fun. But what happens once we get proof? Assuming we can find it.”
“Call it in and sit tight,” Hiram said. “Special Forces will do the rest.”
Kurt liked that idea. But there was one concern. “What if the Brèvards know that Special Forces is being readied? They’ve been one step ahead of us all along.”
“Not this time,” Hiram said. “Like my trip out here to see you, all orders and logistics connected to this operation are being drafted up on old-fashioned typewriters and hand-carried to the commanders in question. The Brèvards can tap all the computers they want, but they won’t find what isn’t there. And if they do look, what they’ll discover is misinformation.
“Right now, the NUMA database, the Air Force database, and even the international air traffic control system, show this plane winging its way to Guam. Orders putting you back on medical leave have already been set in motion, while Joe’s being reassigned to a whale-watching mission off the coast of Venezuela. In the meantime, a CIA threat assessment has labeled Acosta as the prime suspect, putting him in league with the Iranian cyberforce and North Korea’s Unit 121.”
Kurt grinned. “That’s not bad. If this Brèvard guy is taking a peek into our systems, he’s probably feeling awfully good about himself right now. We might even catch him flat-footed.”
“We might at that,” Hiram said.
Kurt stood up, stretched, and glanced back toward Joe. “I’ll go wake Joe. I think we’ll need some coffee.”
Sebastian Brèvard, his brother Laurent, and his “sister” Calista stood in the control room surrounded by computers, discussing the situation.
“I’ve brought all the men in,” Laurent said. “We have a total of fifty at this point. But they’re sitting around with nothing to do. When do you expect this attack to occur?”
“Sooner or later,” Sebastian explained. “I’m monitoring their most important channels. We have nothing to worry about at the moment.”
“In the meantime, we’re spending a fortune on these hired guns,” Laurent said. “I’m sure our regulars would have done just fine.”
Sebastian dismissed his brother’s whining. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “A pittance, compared to what we’ll control.”
“I don’t see why we have to draw them in,” Calista said.
Sebastian glanced toward her as he sat at his own workstation. “How many times have I told you, dear sister, a con is never about convincing your mark to do any particular thing. They must convince themselves to take action, firm in their belief that it was their idea all along.”
“That, I understand,” she said. “But why bring them here?”
“To make this work they must attack with vengeance and retribution in their eyes. The carnage and annihilation it brings will make the world think we’re dead. It will make them think this sordid chapter in their pitiful lives is over and the threat effectively neutralized. Only then will we be truly hidden and able to act with impunity. I told you I would give us a new life, one where no one is looking for us, and I shall.”
For the first time she could remember, he moved closer to her. Instead of the stern older brother, there was something more in his eyes. It made her uncomfortable in a way she was used to making others uncomfortable.
“What about the hostages?” she asked, pulling back.
He looked at her with disappointment. “For the second time in as many weeks you seem concerned with something other than our family. Are you feeling all right?”
“I just need to know,” she snapped.
“They can identify us,” Sebastian explained. “To prevent that, they will be destroyed in the conflagration. Their quarters are lined with napalm, much like the explosives that line our home. When the attack comes and the firefight begins, I will detonate the charges and the whole place will go up in flames. Make sure you’re on the helicopter with me when it does.”
She smiled, the slightly sadistic smile he was more used to. “Of course, dear brother. Where else would I be?”
“Good,” he said. “Now, bring Sienna Westgate to me. I have at least one last job for her.”
Calista nodded and left. With the door shut tight, Laurent reengaged Sebastian.